Burn Card
by boswifedeb
Summary: What happens when a detective knows without a doubt that a suspect is guilty? Houston, Wylie, and Martinez take a road trip to Louisiana to find out the truth behind the disappearance of an elderly gambler and work the process (with a little help) to bring some justice to the victim. Meanwhile, Brian is learning a hard lesson about life and love. *Follows "What Comes Around"*
1. Chapter 1

"**Burn Card"**

"_**Nothing makes us more vulnerable than loneliness, except greed." **_

_**Thomas Harris**_

01

_Thursday, August 22nd at 9:24 am..._

Lorinda Strand drove the GMC Terrain westward toward her home in Atascocita, Texas and worriedly thought over her trip of the last two days. Ever since Evan - her husband of almost forty years - had passed away, her luck at the casino just seemed to get worse and worse each time. This trip had started out really well. She had been up over $10,000 when the rug was seemingly pulled out from under her, leaving her almost that much in the hole. Although her credit cards weren't quite maxed out, she didn't want to add to the debt any further. But there was the cash in the safe at home. If she could just use some of that to get back what she had lost this time around and then cut back on her trips to the casino in Lake Charles it would be okay. "Everything will be fine. This is just temporary." She once again spoke aloud to herself, something that she seemed to be doing more and more of these days. "Oh, Evan! Why did you leave me so soon?" The tears suddenly sprang to her eyes and she quickly wiped them away.

The drive on I-10 was one that they had made so many times together. They had both enjoyed playing poker at the resort. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to it - it was a way to still feel close to him. Letting out a sigh, she wondered how different things would be now if he was still there.

The house was quiet as Lorinda made her way up the sweeping staircase to the second floor of the home that she and Evan had purchased almost thirty years earlier. He had loved Lake Houston and the couple had spent many hours out on the water or simply sitting quietly on the dock behind their house watching the boats pass.

At the top of the stairs she turned right and headed for her room, stopping when she smelled the aroma of pot. Her eyes narrowed and she pushed open the door of Natalie's room. It looked like a garbage truck had exploded: clothing, fast food containers, dishes, and a variety of other trash was on every surface and there leaning against the headboard smoking a joint was Natalie. "You know you aren't supposed to be doing that."

"And you didn't knock. This is still my room."

"Not anymore it isn't. You've got until Monday morning to get out. I'm done, Natalie. This has passed the point of being ridiculous." She turned and swept out of the room hearing the footsteps of the younger woman as she stomped her way across the floor of the bedroom. Just as she started towards the shoe rack in front of the wall safe in her closet, Natalie came through the door.

"This is my home! You can't kick me out."

"Fine. I'll just call your parole officer and let her know what you've been doing."

"I'm not on parole anymore. Besides, it's just a little pot. God! You act like I'm really doing something wrong."

"You are - I guess you think that I haven't noticed the things that are missing from the house."

Natalie opened her mouth to reply and then stopped as what her mother had just said sunk into her brain. It took a few seconds for a reply to appear. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father's golf clubs for a start. And there are a few pieces of my silver missing from under the china cabinet."

"I don't have them."

"I'm sure you don't. What did you do - pawn them?" The shocked look on the younger woman's face made her nod. "That's exactly what I figured. I'll just let Mrs. Carothers know that you did that while you were on parole."

"You aren't going to tell her anything."

"Think so? Well, guess what?" Reaching into her pocket, Lorinda pulled out her cell phone. "Here's her number right here. Wonder how long it will take for you to be picked up and tossed back in jail?" She ran her finger across the screen just seconds before the phone was slapped away.

"No! You can't do that. I'm your daughter."

"Not any more. I'm done with you, Natalie. I supported you when you got busted - paid for a good lawyer, made sure you had everything you needed when you were in prison, even said that you could live here so you could get parole. And what have you done since then? Nothing. You can't even quit smoking that crap long enough to get out of the house and go get a real job."

"I've been trying."

"Not very hard."

"How would you know? You stay at that damn casino more than your own house!" She followed her mother as she went toward the area where her phone had disappeared.

"That's my business. Not yours."

"So the fact that your credit cards are almost over the limit isn't my business? The fact that you've been blowing my inheritance isn't my business?"

"It isn't yours until I'm dead - if it all. Now get out."

_Saturday, August 31st…_

"Houston, the boss lady wants some help from you." Detective Chuck Wylie was seated on the couch in Sheriff Francine Martinez's office and had the phone on speaker.

"Okay. What's up?" Matt fastened the latch on the gate to the pasture and headed up to the house.

Francine spoke up. "We've got a missing persons case and I've got a bad feeling about it."

"Where do I need to be?"

"Here in my office. We have a meeting scheduled in an hour."

"Yes ma'am. See you then." He jogged up the back steps and into the coolness of the house on the Texas ranch. CJ was coming out of the laundry room along with Madre Rosa and he leaned over to give her a kiss. "Would there happen to be a clean uniform shirt in there?"

"Uh huh. What's going on?" She set the basket on the table, listening as he told of the phone call. After a quick search the garment in question was located and handed to him as the t-shirt of the morning was stripped off. "Just be careful, Cowboy."

"I will - and don't you overdo, Lil Mama." As he leaned over and gave her a kiss his hand landed on her belly and he knelt down and spoke to the set of twins that she was expecting. "Y'all make your mama behave while I'm gone."

"Still no idea what they are?" Housekeeper Madre Rosa watched the pair with a smile on her face. The couple was already parents to Catherine Rose, twins Vincent William and Michael Wade, as well as their adopted son Tomás and - although he was technically not a Houston - Brian Landers.

"Nope." The detective headed to the gun case in the den for his holster and pistol. He came back in as he strapped them on, pulled the badge out of his pocket and clipped it on the belt. "They're being stubborn like their mama." Passing by CJ he received a swat on the butt and spoke over his shoulder as he settled the white straw cowboy hat back on his head. "Holler at you later, Babe. Love you."

"Love you more." She watched as her husband shut the door behind him and went down to the HCSO Suburban that was assigned to him.

Turning north on Crosby Huffman Road, Matt thought about the pregnancy. He had been able to predict the sex of their other kids as well as several other babies of friends without a problem . For some reason this pair had him stumped. Maybe CJ was right - maybe it was a boy and a girl. Smiling, he wondered just how much more hectic the household would be in a few months.

Thirty minutes later he was waved on into Martinez's office by the secretary and told to have a seat. With a serious look she told him that three friends and neighbors of Lorinda Strand were coming to meet with them. They had filed a missing persons report a couple of hours earlier and the deputy who took it was an acquaintance of Evan Strand - the deceased husband of the missing woman. He was bringing the three in to meet with Martinez.

Almost as soon as she had finished telling him, her secretary buzzed on the intercom to announce that Corporal Bryce Stanford had arrived. All three in the office stood as the group entered and Matt and Chuck vacated their seats on the sofa so that the two ladies and a gentleman could be seated. After Martinez introduced herself and the two detectives she asked them to please explain why they were so worried.

Mrs. Hanna Aldrich was the first to reply. "Lorinda doesn't just up and stay away without letting someone know where she's going."

An older lady - Genevieve Halstead - nodded her agreement and added, "She goes to the casino every couple of weeks or so, but she always lets one of us know just in case we need to reach her."

Matt had removed a notebook from his back pocket. "What casino would that be, ma'am?"

"The Diamond Stakes Resort in Lake Charles. She and Evan used to go there quite a bit before he passed away."

Wiley now took up the questioning. "When was the last time you saw or heard from her?"

"It'll be two weeks tomorrow."

"Do you have any way to contact her when she's at the casino?"

"Her cell phone. 281-555-3772." Halstead watched as both men wrote down the information.

Matt was the next to ask a question. "I understand that she's a widow: does she have any other relatives?"

The three on the couch shared a disapproving look and the man, Miguel Conseco, now spoke up. "A daughter - Natalie. You probably already know about her. She's been in some trouble."

"Oh?"

Mrs. Aldrich looked pained as she spoke about the woman. "Poor Lorinda was so embarrassed by all that."

"Could you tell us about it?" Houston leaned against the front of Martinez's desk with ankles crossed and listened closely.

"It was drugs. Heroin I heard."

Conseco nodded and added, "And crack. She did some time. I think over a year."

"Did she and her mother have any problems that you know of?"

"Oh, yes. They used to fight all the time when Natalie was in high school. But Evan would lower the boom and put an end to it. She was a wild one as a teenager. I was glad when she went away to college. The street was much quieter." Aldrich looked to Halstead who nodded her agreement.

"But that didn't last long," Halstead took up the tale. "She went for a year, then started back in her sophomore year and was kicked out."

Wiley was jotting all the information down and looked up at the trio and asked, "Do you know what school she went to?"

"UT Dallas. I think she just went to get out from under Evan's control."

Houston rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "How old is she?"

"In her thirties." Halstead looked disapproving. "I don't know what she did after she got kicked out of school. She was home for a while and then disappeared. Frankly, we were just glad she was gone. Evan and Lorinda were much happier."

Matt nodded. "And when did she come back home?"

Conseco was the first to reply. "After she got out of jail. About three months ago."

Genevieve Halstead added quickly, "Lorinda seemed so much happier when Natalie came home after she was released. And you know, I really thought maybe she had learned her lesson. Things seemed a lot better for about three weeks. It was quiet - no arguing, no loud music. And then I noticed some of the people that were coming to the house the first time that Lorinda went to the casino after that. They were a rough looking bunch."

Miguel interjected. "And there was definitely drugs being used. I could smell the pot - Natalie's room is on the side of the house by my property. There's a little distance in between but there was no mistaking where it came from. Still is. I thought they did drug testing on parolees."

Wiley flipped to another page in his notebook. "Was Mrs. Strand having problems with anyone that you know of?"

All three neighbors replied at the same time, "Natalie."

"Was there anyone else?" The answer was a quick "no".

Houston thought for a moment. "And Natalie is her only relative?"

Halstead shook her head. "The only one around here. She has an aunt in Florida. Naples I think. But she isn't in the best of health."

"Alright…" Houston looked to Wylie who shook his head. "Thanks for your help. We may need to contact you again."

Conseco stood up. "Please do. Something is just wrong."

Martinez stood behind her desk. "Corporal, I need to speak with you for just a moment. Wylie, would you see to it that these folks get a ride home?"

"Yes ma'am." He ushered the group out into the lobby and called down for transport, thanking them once again as a deputy exited the elevator to take them home. He entered the sheriff's office where Houston and Stanford were now seated on the couch and the discussion was centering on his personal knowledge of the family.

"Evan was a great guy. Coached my little league team for six years. He was always calm, never yelled at us. And Lorinda is a sweet lady, just as calm as Evan was. Never a bad word to say about anybody."

Matt scratched at the whiskers once again. "So it sounds like she's a regular at the casino."

"I don't know about that. Since Evan passed away I think we've bumped into each other twice."

Francine was swiveling in her chair. "And what do you know about the daughter?"

"She was a handful. A couple of years older than me and wild as could be. Never could understand it - even when I was a kid. Her folks were pretty strict. She was always grounded for this or that. About the only time I ever remember Evan almost losing his cool was when he brought her to practice one time. She was grounded for something and Lorinda was away visiting family so there was no choice but to have her at the ball field. He made her sit in the dugout and work on a book report. When he wasn't looking she snuck out and went to the store about half a mile down the road and got caught shoplifting. Practice had to be ended early. You talk about embarrassed…"

"What did he do for a living?" Although he had heard of him, Matt couldn't remember much about him.

"He was a division manager at Refineco when he died. Had been there ever since I could remember."

"Did you talk to the daughter when you were taking the report?"

"No." Stanford looked worried. "She wasn't at home apparently. There was no answer when I rang the bell."

"Do we have a contact number for her?"

"None of the neighbors knew of one."

Martinez stood up and waved Houston over to her computer without a word, knowing that if a number could be found for the woman he was the very one to find it. Chuck gave a smirk as his partner had a seat behind the desk and began working the keyboard.

Turning her attention back to Stanford, Francine spoke. "Do you have anything else to add?"

"No ma'am." He stood up. "But I'm like the neighbors: something just isn't right."

"Keep your ears open. We'll most likely be in contact with you. And thanks for bringing this to my attention."

"Yes ma'am." He made it to the door when she spoke again.

"Stanford, you are planning on taking the sergeant's exam next month, aren't you?"

"Well, I had thought about it."

"Do it."

"Yes ma'am."

He left and Chuck nodded. "He's a good deputy. Worked with him before."

"Good. If he passes the exam - and I have no reason to doubt that he will - you'll be training him for a detective." She smiled at the surprise on his face.

"Oh."

She turned to look at Matt who had just finished a flurry of keystrokes, jotted down something in his notes, and now leaned back in the large leather chair and propped his left ankle on his right knee as he rubbed at the stubble on his face once again and studied his notes. "You look right at home behind that desk. Thinking of running for office?"

"No ma'am." The answer was immediate as he got up and walked out from behind the desk while Chuck snickered. "Got a number for her."

"I appreciate the help." She watched as the pair headed for the door. "Keep me in the loop, guys."

As so often happened, they answered at the same time. "Yes ma'am."

Shaking her head at the pair, she sat down and swiveled around to the window overlooking Buffalo Bayou. Election time was less than a year away. Although she loved her job it wasn't the easiest in the world and she was giving thought to whether or not she wanted to seek another term. Matt thought she was kidding, but her question to him had actually been serious. In her opinion he would make a great sheriff. There were only a couple of downsides that she could see. First, he hated politics of any kind. Second, he was in high demand especially now that he held a badge with Los Angeles County. Sighing, she turned back to the desk and began looking through the paperwork that had brought her in on a Saturday.


	2. Chapter 2

**02**

After attempting to call the number that he had found for Natalie Strand and not receiving an answer, Matt and Chuck both pulled up outside of the home in Atascocita. It was an appealing house, situated on a half-acre lot on the west fork of the San Jacinto River in a nice neighborhood. If the neighbors who had shown up at Martinez's office were any indication, it was a fairly tight-knit community. They went up the driveway to the walk and both noticed the movement of a blind on the lower floor. Exchanging a knowing look, they stepped up onto the porch and could see through the glass paned front doors into a well-kept home. The black and white tiled entry hall was empty as they rang the bell and waited. After a minute, Wiley punched the bell again and as Matt stared at the blind where there had been movement he saw it again and crooked a finger at whoever was inside. His gamble worked and in a minute they could see a woman making her way into the hall and opening the door. "Yes?"

"Ms. Natalie Strand?" Wiley knew darn well that it was her; he and Matt had looked her up before leaving the office.

"Yes."

"Detectives Wiley and Houston - HCSO. We've received a missing persons report on your mother and need to get some information from you."

"Oh? Who filed it?"

"Some of your neighbors."

"There's no need for that. Mother is fine. She's in Lake Charles."

"When was the last time you spoke to her?"

Matt had been trying to get a look inside the home and Strand now stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her.

"Oh, it's been a few days. But that isn't unusual. She's probably in another high-stakes poker game."

This time Matt asked the question. "Your neighbors seem to think that it's highly unusual for her to be gone so long - and not to answer their phone calls. Can you think of any reason why that might happen?"

"Like I said, she's probably playing poker. That's mostly what she does these days."

"And what about you?" Houston felt his radar going off; Stanford was right to be worried.

"What about me?"

Chuck didn't get a good feeling from her either. "Where do you work?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm unemployed at the moment."

"Isn't employment a condition of your parole?"

"Yes, it was. However that ended three weeks ago. It just so happens that I was laid off." The answer was curt. "Now, if we're done here…"

Houston looked toward the closed garage door. "Is her car here by chance?"

"No."

Wylie continued. "We would like to take a look around if you don't mind."

"Actually I do mind. This whole thing is silly. Mother is fine. She's doing what she loves best. Excuse me." Natalie went back in the house and closed the door behind her, the lock and deadbolt clicking into place.

The friends walked back down to their vehicles and as Matt added to his notes Chuck continued to stare at the house before turning around to lean on the hood. "Something stinks, pard."

"Yep." He pulled the keys out of his pocket. "I'm going to call the casino and see what they can tell us about Mrs. Strand."

"Probably more than her daughter." Chuck went back to his own SUV and followed Matt back to the office.

Once inside the cubicle that the two friends shared, Matt looked up the information for the Diamond Stakes Resort in Lake Charles and placed the phone on speaker. After a few moments on hold his call was answered by one of the assistant managers, Pauline Kretchner. When he asked about Mrs. Strand she immediately knew her.

"Oh, Mrs. Strand is a favorite. She comes here a couple of times a month. We always have a room reserved for her."

Matt and Chuck looked at each other: unless someone dropped a lot of money on a pretty regular basis, a casino wouldn't put out the welcome mat so readily.

"And can you tell me if she's there now?"

"Let me take a look." There was the sound of keystrokes. "Mrs. Strand left here on the twenty-second. I talked to her that morning and she said that she needed to make a run home to check on things and that she would be back later in the day. She does that sometimes."

"And she didn't come back?"

"No."

"Is that unusual?"

"Well, it's happened before. I suppose something just came up." Kretchner now thought about the questions that had been asked. "Is there something wrong, detective?"

"We're not sure. If Mrs. Strand should happen to return, would you please give us a call?" He gave her both his and Chuck's numbers as well as the main number for the department. "We sure appreciate your help."

"Absolutely."

Matt ended the call, leaned back in the chair and looked across at his friend. "We need to put out an APB on her car."

"Yup." Wylie scooted the keyboard over and did just that, making it statewide. He got done and glanced back at Matt. "Well…"

"I think we need to go to Lake Charles, pard. There's no evidence that she ever made it home. But first…" He pulled up the phone number for the Lake Charles Police Department and was connected with the Investigations Division in the form of Sergeant Truman Lachapelle. After giving a brief rundown of their situation he listened as the detective began searching for any mention of the woman in their records. "I'm sorry, Sergeant. We don't have anything on her. No reports or anything. I can check the hospitals for you."

"I would appreciate it. Can I have your number? We may need to talk to you again."

"Sure." The number was given and he took down both Matt's and Chuck's. "I'll give you a holler if I find anything."

"Thanks." Houston hung up and thought it over. According to the neighbors Lorinda Strand was a reliable and somewhat predictable person. The only one who was casting any doubts on her was her daughter. "I would sure like to get a look inside that house."

"Uh huh. Let's file for a warrant." Chuck picked up the phone and made a call to the DA's office that ended with a disgruntled "thank you" and the slamming down of the phone. "Guess they don't think much happens on the weekends. Most likely will be Monday before we get any action."

"Maybe not." Matt picked up his hat and led the way out of the cubicle and to the elevator.

"Think the boss lady can rattle the DA's cage?"

"Possibly. And I have a feeling that she wouldn't mind taking a trip to Louisiana." He had noticed how restless the sheriff had seemed earlier. Something was off there and he was a little worried. They rode up in silence and were told to enter by the secretary who was just leaving. Matt tapped on the door before he opened it and was surprised to find his boss with her head in her hands. "You okay?"

"Yeah. What's up?" She leaned back and listened as he and Chuck both plopped on the couch and informed her of their findings so far. "Hmmm. She sounds like a real prize."

"Not the term I was thinking of…" Chuck grunted.

"I think I'm going to head to Lake Charles. And I think you want to go, too." Houston stared steadily at her.

After a brief pause she nodded. "I would." Looking at her watch she saw that it was after five already. "Tomorrow?"

"I think that would be best." Houston stood as did Chuck.

"Meet you here at six." She watched as the pair nodded silently and exited the office,leaving her to her own thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**03**

Matt pulled into the parking lot on Baker Street a few minutes before six and found Martinez with the back gate of her Suburban open and checking through her bag. "Mornin'."

"Good morning." She zipped the bag closed and handed it to him. "You're driving."

"What - no vote?" He grinned as he put it into the back of his own SUV.

"Nope. Got a full tank?"

"Just topped it off. Even checked the oil before I left the house. Plus Madre Rosa sent along a big thermos of coffee and a bag of homemade churros."

"Bless her." They both looked up as Chuck arrived. He stumbled out of the vehicle yawning.

"I hope one of y'all is driving. Kid number five kept us up most of last night with a stomach bug."

"In that case you're riding in back." Matt gave a grimace and shook his head. "And don't breathe on me."

"Yeah, what he said." Martinez opened up the front passenger door.

"Fine by me. I can stretch out and take a nap." He tossed his bag into the back of the SUV and took a seat inside. "Oh, my God! I smell churros."

"Yep, but since you're contaminated you can't have any." Houston winked at Francine.

"Don't make me call Madre Rosa and tell on you." He snatched the bag from his buddy, grabbed a couple of the delicacies, and pronounced the housekeeper a saint. After finishing off two more once they got underway, he settled into the backseat with his head propped against the window and was lightly snoring within ten minutes.

As Matt pointed the Suburban east on I-10 he stole a glance at the woman that he called boss. "So what's bothering you?"

"Me? Nothing."

"Bull. Out with it."

"Nothing."

"I seem to recall us having this conversation a while back, only reversed . I finally told you what was bothering me. Now it's your turn."

There was a pause. "I don't know. Election time is coming up." She got quiet.

"Uh huh." He looked over at her. "Let me guess: you're not sure you want to run again."

"I'm having some doubts."

"Personal or professional?"

There was a shrug and she looked out the passenger window.

"I can't speak to the personal aspect, but the professional - yeah. You're doing a damn good job. I'll vote for you. So will CJ. And Madre Rosa, and…"

"Funny."

"But true." There was quiet again. "You got any competition?"

"Not anyone that has officially thrown their hat in the ring."

"Unofficially?"

"Rumors. A captain at HPD has been making a few remarks that have gotten back to me."

"Thinks he can do better?"

"He thinks that I don't have a firm enough hand on the department." She didn't tell him that part of it was due to the issues that the now-deceased Tamara Placer had tried to stir up concerning a possible romantic liaison between the two of them.

Houston had heard a few tidbits here and there about the captain, although he was surprised that anyone would put any credence to Placer's theories after what had been revealed about the reporter and why she disliked him so much. CNZ - the network that had employed her at the time of her death - had jumped on the chance for a big boost in the ratings by showcasing what the Bureau of Investigation had found in her apartment: a room that was covered in monitors on two walls running video of the PI, walls full of photos of him taken over the last few years, and a journal on her computer that revealed numerous fantasies that she had of the man as well as her sexual attack on him in an elevator at the LAPD. After he made it clear to her that he had absolutely no intention of cheating on CJ, she had started an all-out war against him in the press. However, many viewers were angry, feeling that the network had known that she was running a smear campaign on Houston and hadn't done anything to stop it. "Do you want me to resign?"

"What?" She seemed shocked.

"I'm part of the problem according to some folks."

"To hell with them."

"So you're going to run again."

"It isn't that simple."

"Seems pretty simple to me. You know the job, you're smart, dependable, honest…"

"Going to do a commercial for me?"

"I'm not much at public speaking. Maybe CJ should do it." He gave her a grin and both cracked up. "I mean really - the wife endorsing the supposed other woman would make you a shoe-in, doncha think?"

"You're…" She started laughing again, shaking her head.

"Need any financial backing?" Matt had contributed to political campaigns very few times in his life. He had little to no tolerance for most politicians.

"Nah. I'll be okay."

"Let me put it this way: I hate politicians. You're not one. You're running. I will be happy to back you. That isn't an offer that many people get. Just ask CJ."

"Well, maybe a little bit. But don't feel like you have to do it. I won't fire you if you don't." It was her turn to smile.

"I've got a feeling that I'm more likely to quit than to be fired by you."

"Not planning on quitting since Strauss brought you on board, are you?"

"No. But if me being around is going to put your future in jeopardy I'll quit in a heartbeat. You're the right person for the job."

"_You_ could be the right one for the job."

"Funny."

"No seriously. Look at it: you've got business sense and these days being a financial manager is a large part of any public office. You're the best detective I've ever met, you're a damn computer whiz, and you're honest."

"I'm no politician."

"I'm not either. We already settled that."

"I'm not running. You know how it is with me - back and forth all the time. And I found out yesterday that I've got one more trip to make to Quantico in about three weeks." He watched her out of the corner of his eye and gave a chuckle.

"What?"

"You're just itching to ask why."

She shrugged. "So I'm curious."

"Well, I can finally tell you. But don't say anything until it's announced."

"You're really going to run for president."

"Are you drunk?" Both cracked up. "No…" He got serious. "Derwin Dunlap and I have been working on a combat simulator for the military. Initially for the Marines and Navy SEALS and then it will most likely be implemented by the Army."

"Wow - that's what he was wearing you out about when you had your back surgery." The answer was a nod. "That's really impressive. So I guess he was the computer guy and you were basically the boots on the ground guy."

"Pretty much. A lot of it concerns entry teams, close quarters combat, that kind of stuff. I wrote up a bunch of it - things I had been through when I was in the Army, things that I have thought up since. Some of it is hindsight - thinking about how things could have been done differently back then. Basically I want to keep so many of our folks from getting hurt or killed. There's been too damn much of that already."

"Good thing Placer is dead. I can only imagine how she would carry on over what you're going to make off of it."

"If I was going to keep it, it would almost double my net worth as of this moment." He looked over to see the shock on her face. "But I'm not keeping a dime of it. It's going into several different programs to help veterans who have been injured and to help the families of those who have been killed."

"That's…" She couldn't believe her ears. Next to her sat a man who was already richer than most people ever dreamed of being. He could be even richer than he already was and yet he was turning his share of the profits over to benefit others. "That's wonderful."

He tried to lighten the mood by puffing out his chest and sticking his nose in the air. "Well, you know - I'm just a wonderful person. CJ thinks so anyway."

She cracked up again. "How's she doing?"

"Great. That baby bump is really starting to show." A big smile accompanied the statement.

Chuck picked that moment to begin snoring loudly and the pair laughed yet again.

"Listen, I know I'm just a lowly sergeant, but if you ever need to talk you know I'm here, right? I kind of owe you after that little swim in the Rio Grande."

"I appreciate it."

The quiet resumed and Matt's thoughts went back to the Strand case. "Do the folks in Lake Charles know that we're invading them?"

"Yup. I called the chief there after you left yesterday."

"And how did that go?"

"We're supposed to behave and let them know if we find anything."

"Hope you didn't promise that behaving deal - what with Chuck around. You know how he is."

Houston came to a stop outside of the Diamond Stakes Casino and Resort in Lake Charles, Louisiana just after 8:30. Chuck had slept most of the way until Martinez had rousted him out twenty minutes earlier with a hot cup of coffee. He was still yawning as they entered the front doors of the resort. The sounds of slot and poker machines rang out from the casino and all three just shook their heads. Chuck had to lean closer to the other two to be heard. "I'm all for having a good time, but it ain't even nine in the morning."

"You're getting old, pard." Matt grinned as his friend slapped him on the back of the head.

Francine tried for a serious look. "Behave, boys."

Both answered at the same time in their best schoolboy voice. "Yes ma'am." She rolled her eyes and they approached the front desk.

"Hi. Sheriff Francine Martinez to see Pauline Kretchner, please."

"Sure. If you'll follow me…" The young man behind the counter motioned to his left and they went through a door and down a long hallway to a suite of offices, the sounds of the casino disappearing as they did so. He knocked and stuck his head inside to announce them, then held the door open as they entered, and disappeared back to the front desk.

"Please have a seat." She motioned to the chairs in front of her desk and the trio settled. "I spoke to a Detective Houston on the phone yesterday."

"That would be me." Matt signalled his presence.

"Is Mrs. Strand in some kind of trouble?"

"She's been reported missing. The last place that she was positively seen was here on the twenty-second."

"You mean I was the last to see her?" Kretchner looked shocked.

"That we know of…" Houston settled his ankle on his knee. "Did she seem upset about anything?"

Kretchner's expression seemed almost guilty. "Well, she wasn't having a good time at the tables. It started out really good - she won over $10,000. And then she lost it, plus almost another $10,000."

"So she was upset about it?"

"I think so." After pausing for a moment she continued. "The Strands used to come here about once a month or so for the weekend. And then Mr. Strand passed away. Such a sweet man. They used to have so much fun here playing poker, watching shows, having dinner, dancing in the clubs. But ever since he died, she's just been kind of...pitiful I guess would be the right word. It seems like when she gets here she almost expects to see him. Sounds silly I guess. She's always sad when she leaves."

"And Mrs. Strand has a regular room here?"

"Yes. There's a term casinos use..."

"Whale."

"Yes. And ever since Mr. Strand's passing she's lost quite a bit of money at the tables."

Martinez joined in. "What did she play most often?"

"Texas Hold'em. She and Mr. Strand were both really good players. He won a tournament here about a year before he died."

Chuck now spoke up. "Has she had any problems with anyone here? Over the gaming or anything else?"

"No. Mrs. Strand is so sweet there are never any problems. The staff loves her. She's very generous with tips and they all rush to take care of anything that she needs."

Martinez nodded and the group exchanged a look. "Would it be okay if we took a look in her room?"

"I don't see why not. If it would help you to find her…" She stood and ushered them out to the front desk where she got a master key card and they rode up to the fifth floor, exiting to the right, and stopped at the door of 520. She knocked first, waited a moment, knocked again, and then started to slide the key card, but was stopped by Matt who - like Martinez and Chuck - had donned a pair of nitrile gloves.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind…" He took the card from her and unlocked the door. "Mrs. Strand? Are you in here?" There was no reply and the group entered. "Please don't touch anything." Kretchner nodded nervously and clasped her hands together. They cleared the suite finding no sign of foul play. There was a suitcase in the closet and various articles of clothing were hung up. A toiletries bag was open on the bathroom counter and a hairbrush was lying next to it along with a tube of lipstick. Glancing up in the mirror, Houston saw that Kretchner was craning her neck to look inside the room and he decided to try something that had worked for him fairly recently on a case in Los Angeles. Barely loud enough to be heard, he spoke to Chuck. "Take her out in the hallway and see if you can find out if Mrs. Strand had a favorite table that she played or a favorite dealer, will ya?" The reply was a quick nod and Chuck took the woman by the elbow and began questioning her as he led her back outside the suite.

Taking a deep breath, Matt removed the glove on his right hand and picked up the hairbrush with his left as Martinez gave him a questioning look. He touched a few hairs that were in the brush and a flash of bright light came before his eyes. Then there was darkness. The back of his head was pounding and he could see the headlights of a car. There was something that felt like plastic wrapped around him and as he tried to struggle free of it, he heard someone whisper a low curse. There were footsteps next to him and a gun was fired. More pain shot through his head. Next he smelled some kind of accelerant and then he let out a howl of pain as his body went up in flames, the plastic melting around him and sticking to his body like a second layer of skin before his lungs filled with the hot acrid air and everything went black.

The next thing he knew he was seated on the side of the tub with a worried looking Francine kneeling in front of him. All he could get out was, "She's dead."


	4. Chapter 4

**04**

"Chuck, please go see if you can interview the dealer that Ms. Kretchner told you about. We're going to get something to drink." Martinez had Houston by the arm and they went out the back of the hotel taking seats at one of the tables that looked out over Bayou Contraband. A waitress came and took their order for coffee and she watched him carefully. He had gone completely white upstairs and she had thought he was passing out. When the coffee arrived he took a sip with hands that were slightly shaky. Looking out over the water he drew in a few deep breaths and the color began to come back to his face. She wanted to give him a few minutes to recover and didn't want to rush him. Finally he looked over at her and she gave him a slight smile. "Apparently your special gift kicked in."

"I have to agree with Michael. Sometimes it doesn't really seem like a gift. More like a curse."

"How long have you been able to do that - like the hairbrush?"

"Not long. It happened the first time a few weeks ago in LA on the clown case ."

"So you thought you would just take a chance and see if it would work again?"

He nodded, still looking embarrassed.

"Houston, I don't want to push you, but it would sure help if I knew what was going on."

More coffee was consumed and he very quietly explained what he had seen, felt, and heard and her mouth dropped open.

Chuck appeared at the table and looked between them. "You okay, pard? Hope you're not trying to get that stomach bug."

"No."

"So what did I miss?" Listening as his friend quietly explained, he suddenly sat down in the neighboring chair and leaned forward. "Holy crap, man. No wonder you went fish-belly white. Damn. You okay?"

"Yeah, just kind of embarrassed."

"Don't be." Wylie put a hand on his shoulder. "What you can do is - amazing. But anybody who went through something like that and didn't at least turn pale? Well, I don't think they would be human."

They watched as Matt rubbed his eyes and drank more coffee. "I don't know where it was - couldn't really see anything but the damn headlights." Closing his eyes he drew in a deep breath and let it out trying to relax and center his mind on details. "I could hear frogs. And the ground was kind of soft." Opening his eyes he pointed toward the water that was slowly flowing by them. "Probably on a bayou somewhere. There was that smell."

Chuck considered it. "And you say you couldn't see who it was...but you heard them cussing. Was it male or female?"

Houston closed his eyes and thought through it again. "I'm not sure. Everything seemed muted - like there was cotton in my ears." He finished off the coffee and the waitress refilled the cups and brought one for Chuck as he thought some more. "Her head took a lot of damage. It was pounding. So I'm thinking she was hit on the back of the head. That's what it felt like. And then somebody shot her in the head - the left side." He took more of the coffee. "And there was some accelerant poured on her. Not gasoline." Closing his eyes once more he rewound the scene in his mind like a movie and tried to sniff. His eyes snapped open. "Acetone. It was acetone."

"Fingernail polish remover?" Francine's eyes narrowed. "And our primary suspect is female."

Chuck spoke up. "Natalie Strand was wearing some wild looking nail polish yesterday. Bunch of stripes and sparkly stuff on them. Plus she was working at a nail salon while on parole." He looked to his friend again and patted him on the shoulder. "Ya done good, pard."

Houston shook his head disgustedly. "Not good enough. We don't have any proof that it was Natalie - and we don't have a body."

"Maybe not." Francine looked at both of the men sitting with her. "But we have a hell of a lot more to work with than we did." She turned her gaze back to Matt. "Is there anything we can do to help the-" Stopping, she looked for the right word. "-process along? Sorry, I don't know what to call it."

"I sure as hell don't know what to call it. Don't feel lonely." Houston's grumbling reply brought first snickers and then laughter. Looking offended he added, "It's not like I got a damn user's manual for this crap." That just caused the other two to laugh even harder.

Francine wiped away a couple of tears and tried to catch her breath. "God, I love working with you two." The laughter died down and they continued to think over the situation.

Matt tapped on the table top. "We need to find a few things. Number one is Lorinda Strand. Number two is her car. Number three is the original crime scene. I don't think it started where it ended. Don't really have a grounded basis for that - just a feeling. Plus finding the gun would be a big help."

"I think we should put Armando Silva on Natalie's tail." She looked to Chuck. "What about the dealer?"

"He's off today so I spoke to him on the phone. Got pretty much the same story from him as from Kretchner: Lorinda Strand lost her ass on the last several trips here. But she still gave him a good tip."

Matt thought back on his own experiences. "Most folks playing poker don't tip unless they're winning."

"Let's do some more nosing around. I'm going to call the Louisiana State Police and see if we can get some help looking for the car." After a moment of consideration she spoke again. "Do either of you have any issues with staying a day or so to see what we can dig up?"

Both men shook their heads.

"Call your wives and let them know. And if for some reason you need to go I'll understand." She watched as Houston got up from the table and slowly walked toward the water while calling CJ. Chuck spoke to Lisa and after being assured that his daughter Daphne was feeling much better, ended the call. They both watched their friend as he leaned against the railing and talked to his wife.

Martinez spoke quietly. "That's got to be unnerving."

"Yeah. He's a tough one. If it hits him like that…" The rest of the sentence was left unsaid.

Houston came back to them. "CJ says I can stay and play."

"Probably thinks you're playing poker again." Chuck stood as did the boss and the trio left the casino and went back out to the SUV with Martinez taking the keys.

Francine called the State Police as she slid behind the wheel of the Suburban, cranked the engine, and turned the air on while Matt took the passenger seat. Chuck was worriedly keeping a good eye on Matt from the back seat - he still seemed a little pale and shaky.

After she ended the call she looked to Houston. "No pressure: do you think looking at a map might help? Even if you don't have a vision or whatever you call it - maybe we could come up with some ideas of where to look for her?"

Nodding he looked back at Chuck. "Pard, would you hand me that laptop?" He took the machine and opened it up. The home screen was a shot that had been taken a couple of months previously when all five of the kids had been clowning around for the camera.

Martinez gave a chuckle. "That wild bunch of yours is going to be even wilder in a few months."

"Yup." The smile that went across his face spoke volumes. He paused, looked at Chuck in the mirror and received a nod. He knew exactly what Matt was thinking.

"You know you can trust her, pard."

"Yep." As he opened a program he spoke to her. "You can't breathe a word of this…" The program for the old Russian satellite came up on the screen and he began the job of moving it from covering the Houston ranch to their current location.

"What the hell?" It only took a little over a minute to get it into position and the next thing she saw was the very vehicle they were sitting in. "Holy…how?"

"A $5 million dollar investment about six years ago."

"Oh, dear sweet Jesus!" The shocked expression on her face caused both men to crack up. She then became thoughtful. "You used that when you went after Diego, didn't you?"

"Yep." His expression turned serious once more as he thought about the heartbreaking night that his Mexican cousin had killed their grandmother; his paternal cousin Will had received a fatal cut to the neck as the pair was escaping from Diego's gang and made the desperate swim across the Rio Grande.

The interior of the SUV remained quiet as they watched while he zoomed in on Bayou Contraband that flowed behind the resort. Calcasieu Parish was home to some beautiful land with bayous snaking through it. Beauty was one thing; trying to search for a body within an area that was mostly covered with trees was something else. As he looked, Matt was thinking that if they were forced to search for the body with cadaver dogs there would be more than just the problem of narrowing down the search area. The locals were sure to want to know how they suspected that a body was there in the first place. He sure as hell didn't want to tell them.

Over an hour later he was searching the shores of Bayou d'Inde when he froze and zoomed in even closer on something that seemed more than just a log. Martinez let out a gasp and Chuck a curse as what looked like something burnt was magnified as much as possible. A foot was visible on one end and hair on the other.

Rubbing at the whiskers on his chin, Houston stared at the screen. "So how in the hell are we supposed to explain finding a body?"

"She drove a GMC Terrain, right?" Chuck rested his chin on Francine's seat.

"Yeah…" Matt pulled up a tab and began working the keyboard, running the DMV information on Lorinda Strand's 2018 GMC.

Francine's phone rang. "Yes?" Her eyes popped open wide. "When?" She listened intently. "And was she taken into custody?" A smile crossed her face. "Hang on." Speaking to the two detectives with her, she told them what the chief deputy had just passed on to her. "Natalie Strand was pulled over about 8:30 this morning in her mother's car because of the APB. She's in lockup pending a bail hearing on a possible DUI and the car is in impound. The arresting deputy did a search and didn't find any drugs. She did find paraphernalia and a mostly empty vodka bottle."

Matt's heart gave a leap. "Get CSI to check the onboard navigation."

Nodding, Martinez spoke to Chief Deputy Dave Montgomery. "I want Michelle Rodolfo assigned to this. I want her to go over that car with a fine toothed comb. And tell her to check the navigation system first and call me directly ASAP. I also want her to check for blood, hair, and anything that might tell us about a possible murder. Thanks." She hung up with a victorious smile.

Not quite an hour later Martinez's phone rang and she put it on speaker. "Yeah, Michelle?"

"I've downloaded the information from Lorinda Strand's vehicle. What do you need?"

"We need to know if she made it from Lake Charles back home on the twenty-second." There was a pause on the other end and a flurry of keystrokes.

"She did."

"And did she come back to the Lake Charles area?"

"Yes ma'am. It's kind of strange, though. It was about four the next morning."

"Can you give me the GPS coordinates of that visit?" All three in the Suburban held their breath. "Okay. They are 30.214103 and -93.313182." The tech jumped when there was the sound of celebration on the other end of the line.

"And the vehicle made a return trip to her home?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Thanks, Michelle. Please make sure to document all of that very carefully, okay?"

"Yes ma'am. Anything else?"

"Just see if you can find any signs of foul play in the vehicle."

"Will do. I'll call you if I find anything."

"Thanks." Francine hung up. "Well boys, we've got probable cause to ask for a little help from the Lake Charles PD."


	5. Chapter 5

**05**

Francine put the SUV in park in the lot in front of 5400 Broad Street in Lake Charles and the three exited and made their way into the police station. In short order they were seated in a conference room and met by Captain Benjamin Janvier who introduced himself as the head of the Investigations Division before he introduced Sergeant Truman Lachapelle. The sergeant shook Matt's hand. "We talked on the phone yesterday."

"Yes sir." The two shook.

Captain Janvier looked to Martinez and asked for a rundown on the case. After looking up the GPS coordinates on his phone he slowly nodded. "I doubt that there was any reason for Mrs. Strand to be in that area at four in the morning." He turned his attention to Lachapelle. "Truman, why don't you take these folks out there and see if you can find anything." He stood and held out his hand to the sheriff again. "Ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you. Just let me know if there's anything else that we can do for you."

"The pleasure is mine, Captain. Thank you."

The group followed Lachapelle outside. "Y'all can just follow me over there."

Matt slid behind the wheel of the Suburban and they started the trip west. "You know, it's not but about twelve miles from here."

They followed along on Highway 90 until they got to Prater Road and headed south at Lighthouse Lane. The next turn put them onto a gravel road lined overhead with a generous mixture of pine, oak, and tupelos. As they neared their destination the tall cypress trees became more plentiful. Lachapelle stopped not far from the indicated point on their map in an area where the road narrowed to a dirt trail and a lone set of tire tracks was visible going into the densely forested acreage. The group got out and the sergeant pointed ahead.

"We had a pretty good rain the day before yesterday. Water's up some. Might do better on foot from here." He, like the other three, bent to tuck his pants legs into the tops of the duty boots before they started through the thick mud. All four were careful to stay off of the set of tire tracks that they could see. It wasn't long before the scent of death reached their nostrils and they came out to the very spot on the bank of the bayou that Houston had spotted with the satellite. A gruesome sight waited for them.

Lachapelle crossed himself. "Holy Mother of God…"

The body of Lorinda Strand had been wrapped in plastic just as Matt had felt. What was left of a shower curtain was around her and as he moved nearer, he better understood why sounds had been muffled. There was some type of rug around most of the woman's head with only her lifeless eyes showing through. Animals had been nibbling on the toes and the eyes had been disturbed as well. The flies were horrendous. To better deal with the smell, Matt removed a roll of mints from his pocket and offered one to the sheriff who gratefully took it. He popped one in his mouth as Chuck removed one from his own pack, offering one to Truman who thanked him.

Houston squatted down a distance away from the body where he wouldn't mess up the scene. "I'm surprised a gator didn't go after the body."

Francine removed her phone and made a call. "Dave, when is Natalie Strand scheduled for court?" She waited for the reply as it was now Truman's turn to make a phone call to his boss and request a roll out of the troops for a murder investigation. Francine watched as both Matt and Chuck began taking pictures.

The chief deputy came back on the line. "Sheriff, she will be on the docket tomorrow."

"Excellent. Thanks." She disconnected the call and searched through her contacts for Silva's number. "I need you to be in court tomorrow when Natalie Strand has her hearing. If the judge grants bail you will immediately take her into custody for questioning in the death of her mother." There was a pause as she listened. "We just found the body outside of Lake Charles." Another pause ensued. "Not sure when - it depends on how fast things move here. I'll update you as soon as I know something. Thanks."

Lachapelle looked sickened as he got a little closer to the body and pointed to the mess that had been a rug. A hole was visible. "Looks like she was shot in the head." There was a grunt of agreement from the other three.

Within twenty minutes an entire investigative crew was on scene taking tire track impressions, footprints, photographing the scene, and finally the coroner came and removed the body. After carefully placing Lorinda into a body bag it was hauled out by four deputies. Francine, Matt, and Chuck followed the procession back out and returned to their vehicle. It took several minutes and some maneuvering before they were heading out the way that they had come in, none of them in the Harris County vehicle speaking until Chuck broke the silence.

"Pard, you were right on the money. Especially about things being muffled. That rug was wrapped around her head."

"Yeah, I reckon maybe that was done to keep from making such a mess. And the shower curtain, too." Matt looked to Martinez. "We need Michelle to get prints off of Strand's Terrain and send them to Lachapelle for a comparison. And we need to get a search warrant for the house."

"Yeah…" She made yet another call as they followed the coroner's van back into Lake Charles. Just as she was about to end the call Houston stopped her. "We need a warrant for Lorinda's financial records, too." Nodding, she passed it on to the Texas end of the conversation.

The trip to the Coroner's Office on East Prien Lake Road was fairly short and they soon were told that the autopsy wouldn't take place until the following morning. The trio went back out to the SUV to regroup. It was now almost two in the afternoon.

"Well…" Matt started the engine and turned on the air conditioner. "I vote we get some lunch." Both of his companions agreed and they found a mom and pop diner five blocks west. After sliding into a booth and placing their orders they sat quietly drinking the sweet iced tea.

Houston added another slice of lemon to his and sat stirring the liquid and ice with his straw. "Way I see it, the warrants for the house and bank records most likely won't come through until tomorrow. With Natalie in lockup that gives us an edge: she won't be able to mess with anything in the house. But chances are she has probably already done a cleaning job in there."

"She mighta got sloppy, pard." Chuck popped his knuckles. "Natalie thinks she's smart. I'd sure love to prove her wrong."

Francine nodded her agreement. "The autopsy will start at eight and if it runs like most, will take about two to three hours. That would put us leaving here at ten or eleven. A couple of hours of travel time and we will be back home. Hopefully by that time the warrants will be ready."

"Sounds like a plan." Chuck pulled out his phone as did Matt and they let their spouses know what was going on. After a couple of minutes of chatting with the hellions as he referred to them, Matt ended the call when their food arrived.

Lunch time over, they did a quick internet search and found a decent hotel a few miles further west and made the short drive, getting the last two available rooms. Chuck pretended to grumble. "Guess I'll have to bunk with you again and listen to your snoring." He shot Matt a look as he texted CJ to let her know where he would be staying.

Francine spoke up. "You're sure as hell not bunking with me." All three cracked up and Chuck poked his buddy in the ribs and was about to make another comment on the subject when the boss stopped him. "Don't even say it, Wiley. You two are bunking together. End of story." She laughed and opened the door to her room as the pair giggled.

A couple of hours later, Matt and Chuck were in the onsite gym racing on a pair of treadmills to see who could do five miles the fastest when Martinez arrived and began using an elliptical machine. The trash talk between the two friends was keeping her laughing. Matt hit the five mile mark first and pronounced that Chuck would be buying the beer that night. All three went out to the pool area and as Martinez took a seat in one of the lounge chairs her two detectives dove into the water for some laps.

Shaking her head as she watched the two childhood friends, her mind went back to the matter of the election. Houston had made some good points that morning and really, what would she do if she wasn't sheriff? Her life's ambition from a very young age was to be a cop. Now she was not only that, she was the top cop. Although her administration wasn't perfect, she had done her best to clean house after the crook that had held the office before her. And the two men she was watching in the pool had played a very big part in that. The way they were cutting up now would make it hard for any outsider to believe what they had accomplished since Chuck had first asked her to bring Houston in on an investigation. She had listened to him make his case, checked out the private eye's credentials, and immediately given her approval. In her estimation that had been one of the smartest moves she had made. Her attention was taken away from their antics by a shadow that now appeared over her and she shaded her eyes to bring the form into focus. "Brian?"

"Yes ma'am." The teen took a seat next to her.

"Does Houston know you're here?"

"No ma'am." The young man that Matt considered one of his kids looked troubled.

"Are you okay?"

After a brief pause he shrugged. "Just need to talk to Pop."

Chuck stopped trying to dunk his buddy and pointed to the pair sitting by the pool. Matt immediately climbed out of the water and approached them.

"Bri, what're you doin' here?"

"I'm sorry to bother you. I need to talk."

"Sure." Matt reached down for a towel and began drying off, motioning the young man to an empty table a short way from where they were standing. "What's wrong?"

Brian sat down and looked miserable. "I…" His voice drifted away. He started again. "You know I've been dating Erica."

"Uh huh." Matt turned a chair and sat just in front of him.

"We, uh…" The teen squirmed in the chair. All the way to Lake Charles he had tried to figure out what to say to the man that he considered a dad.

Matt's radar began to go off and he thought about what he knew of the girl that had been dating his son for the last three or four months - which really wasn't a lot. Brian was eighteen now, had just graduated from high school and had been awarded a full ride football scholarship to Texas A&M. He had always been responsible and the fact that he was sitting in front of him now obviously upset made him nervous.

"I thought she was pregnant." His eyes darted up to look at Matt. "She isn't."

"Okay."

"She...we…"

Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, he gave it a squeeze. "Just talk, bud."

With an anguished look, Brian rubbed his hands on the legs of his jeans. "I was careful, you know…" He looked at Matt again who was nodding. "But she...she poked a hole in the condom and…"

Houston felt anger starting to rise, not at Brian but at the girl. Not only had she taken a chance of getting pregnant the fact was that she had exposed him to disease. He did his best to keep his face impassive. Very quietly and evenly he spoke. "And you're one hundred percent sure that she's not pregnant?"

"Yeah, she was late but - you know. It showed up." His face was bright red.

"Okay. And she told you that she poked a hole in it?"

"Yeah." The dam broke now and the hurt associated with the words was clear. "I can't believe she did that! She _knows_ that I'm working hard to do good on the team and classes are about to start. Why would she do something like that? I thought...I thought she loved me." There were a few tears now that were quickly wiped away.

Matt pulled the boy into a hug, feeling more hot tears as the teen hid his face on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a minute and then Brian wiped his face, nervously looking around and hoping that no one had seen. Only a few people were left in the area now and his back was toward Chuck and Francine.

Calmly, the older man spoke. "Brian, remember when we were talking about stuff like this?" They had talked about sex related issues after Lisa - Brian's mother - had been killed and he began dating. "All some people see is dollar signs, bud. More than likely, she thought that she could have a kid by you and not have to worry about money. It happens."

"Did it ever happen to you?"

"Almost. Thank God I caught her in the act." His mind went back to a woman he had dated in Los Angeles not long after he had won his first millions at poker and moved there to make a point to his dad.

"I guess I sound like a baby. But-"

"No, you don't."

"It's just...I feel so stupid!" Anger was bubbling up now. "She used me!"

"It happens. You're not the first person it's ever happened to - I've been there before myself several times and the last time damn near got CJ and me both killed."

"That Elizabeth woman?" He had heard little bits and pieces about the woman that had left Houston at the altar and he had looked at news stories about her on the internet.

"Yeah." Matt struggled for the right words. "My best advice to you right now is firstly to stay the hell away from Erica. Don't have _any_ contact with her at all. Block her on your phone, email, MugBook - everything. You worked your ass off to get the scholarship and that's what you need to concentrate on at the moment." He patted the boy on the shoulder. "And from now on, _you_ take care of the condoms. Nobody else touches them. Got it?"

There was a nod.

"Have you told CJ?"

The answer was a negative shake of the head. "I was too embarrassed…"

"That's understandable. But for legal reasons - in case she tries to start some crap - I'm going to tell her, okay?"

Brian nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. Don't be sorry." He looked at his son. "These next few years are going to be great in a lot of ways, Bri. But there are going to be some rough times, too. And you're going to have to be careful."

"I'm sorry if coming here embarrassed you. It was just - it hurt, you know? I just needed to talk. Face to face."

"I'm glad you did. And that's my job. I'm your pop, right?" They shared a grin. Brian had taken to using the name that Matt's adopted son Tomás used for him.

"Yeah."

"Tell you what: let me go upstairs and get some clothes on and we'll go get some supper. Deal?"

"Yeah." They stood. "What about Chuck and Miss Francine?"

"Do you want them along or do you want to talk some more?"

There was a shaky breath drawn in as he looked at the two cops who were sitting and talking. "Well, Uncle Chuck is always good for a laugh. Guess I could use that right now." He looked back up at Matt and grinned. "Love you, Pop."

"Love you, too, bud."

Later that night as Chuck turned out the light and crawled into his bed, he noticed that Matt was particularly quiet. "Is Brian okay?"

"He will be."

"Girl troubles?"

"Massive." The sound of disgust was undeniable.

Wiley turned on his side to face the bed that his buddy was in and waited to see if Houston would confide in him. After a moment of silence, he revealed the truth and Chuck sat up on his elbow. "You're kiddin' me."

"Nope."

"That…" He didn't finish the sentence.

"But please don't say anything to him - or anybody else for that matter."

"You know I won't, man." He flopped back down in the bed. "Unbelievable. And I met her. Seemed like a nice girl."

"Yup." Matt let out a big breath. "Just hope she doesn't try to start any other crap."

"Really." Wiley shook his head in disbelief. They were quiet, neither one feeling like going to sleep. "You know this deal with Natalie Strand is the kind of thing that could make a good cop think about breaking the rules."

"Yeah, but think about it: we're coming up with more evidence. There's no need for us to take short cuts. She's going to go down by her own stupidity. We just need to collect all the pieces and let the bitch hang herself."

"Yeah." Chuck thought about it and then gave a little laugh.

"What?"

"I remember a time when you would have broken every rule to get someone put away when you knew without a doubt they were guilty."

"Yeah, well maybe I've grown up."

"Or just gotten old."

"We're the same age, pard."

"Guess we're both getting old."

With a huge grin on his face, Houston hurled one of the pillows on his bed and hit Chuck with it. "Bite my old."


	6. Chapter 6

**06**

Monday morning found the three Texans standing in the autopsy room in Lake Charles as Lorinda was cut from her shower curtain shroud. She had been a small woman, barely five feet two inches and weighed maybe one-twenty. The burning of the body had been a botched job for the most part. Since the victim's hands had been tightly wrapped against her body mummy-style with both the rug and shower curtain to protect them, getting fingerprints was easy. The coverings were bagged and sent for forensic testing as were the clothes that she was wearing.

Lorinda Strand's head was in terrible shape. There were gashes on the back of it near the base of the skull and the medical examiner concluded that she had been hit with a blunt object at least six times. There had been a good bit of bloodshed as was evidenced by the dark stain on the rug.

Next the bullethole in the woman's skull was examined and found to be from a .38 that was fired into her left temple at such an odd angle that it had actually done very little damage to her brain. The slug had been recovered from the ground underneath Lorinda's head. As Matt heard those words he thought back to what he had felt when touching the hair in the brush: she had lived through the gunshot. It wasn't until she had been set on fire that the poor woman had died.

Francine and Chuck were both keeping an eye on Matt, standing on either side of him. They had made that plan the afternoon before while he was busy talking to Brian beside the pool. He looked steady and after exchanging a look and a nod, they both felt that he would be fine.

The ME moved on to the internal exam and made a Y-incision. The woman's lungs had been seared by the heat of the flames. Other than the wounds that she had received, she was in remarkably good condition for a woman of her age.

Stripping off his gloves, Dr. Utley looked to the three from Harris County and Sergeant Lachapelle. "This poor lady had a rough time of it. My preliminary cause of death pending the usual blood and tox screen is going to be smoke inhalation. As far as when it happened, I would estimate it between seven to ten days. Whoever did this -" He paused and turned to look as his assistant prepared her for placement back in the cooler. "Whoever did this needs to pay."

"Thanks, Doc." Truman shook his hand as did Houston, Martinez, and Wylie.

Back outside in the parking lot Francine turned to the local cop. "We'll be in touch with you, Sergeant. As soon as we have something to give you, it's yours. Thanks so much for your help and hospitality."

"Yes ma'am. It was a pleasure to meet y'all." Lachapelle shook with the Texans and then turned toward his vehicle and left as Matt got behind the wheel of the Suburban and pointed it towards I-10.

Francine turned her phone back on, checked her messages and called Silva back. "Hey, what happened?"

Armando Silva was just sitting down behind his desk on Baker Street. "Something good for us - not for Natalie Strand. She got mouthy with the guards and got into a fight with a couple of other females in lockup. When she went before Judge Casey she mouthed off again and was found in contempt. He gave her ten days."

Chuck burst out laughing as did Matt.

Francine snickered. "She's being really helpful to our cause. Have you heard anything about the search warrants?"

"No ma'am. Not yet."

"Alright. We're on the way back. Should be there in a couple of hours. Thanks for your help." She disconnected the call and placed one to Michelle Rodolfo who informed her that she had found traces of blood, hair, and acetone in the hatch of the Terrain that belonged to Lorinda Strand and would be sharing the DNA profiles from them as well as fingerprints and tire impressions with the Lake Charles Police.

Matt was having a hard time keeping his mind on the case as he drove along. The visit from Brian the evening before kept bubbling back up to the surface and he now made up his mind to have a talk with Tomás. They had discussed things like that before, but what had happened with Brian had shaken him a little bit.

CJ had been understandably concerned the night before when he had called to tell her about the conversation with Brian. "I'm so glad he found you alright. I knew something was going on when he called looking for you yesterday afternoon. Thought maybe he was worried about football or school or something. I never dreamed that she would pull something like that. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, just hurt. And a little wiser now."

Once they made it back to Houston, the trio found that the warrants had come through and after a quick trip by a Burger Nerd, they met with a locksmith at the Strand home. As the man worked to open the front door, Matt donned gloves as did the other two and Michelle Rodolfo was standing by with her equipment. Martinez had notified the alarm company and had the system remotely shut off so that they wouldn't be deafened by it when they made entry.

Matt made a beeline for the upstairs area and was checking the bathrooms. Natalie had evidently replaced the shower curtain, but it didn't take him long to figure out that the one that Lorinda had been wrapped in had come from the master bath. It had contained an aqua colored seashell pattern as did the matching accessories in the room. Uncharacteristically, the shower curtain that hung there was a plain white one, and was cheaply made. Pictures were taken and it was bagged as evidence.

Chuck was exploring the master bedroom. Pictures of Lorinda and her husband Evan were on the walls, dresser, and nightstands. He flipped on the light in the large walk-in closet and hollered out, "Bingo!"

Matt appeared from the bathroom. "Whatcha got, pard?"

Chuck shone the flashlight on the floor of the walk-in closet. "I'm thinking blood. Looks like she tried to clean it. Good for us that she's lazy. She did a half ass job at best."

Nodding, the taller man carefully entered and avoided the stain that was about eighteen inches by twelve. He looked around and knelt down in front of the area and gave a grunt. "Bet this is why she was in here." Chuck joined him. Half hidden behind a moveable shoe rack was a small wall safe. "Is that locksmith still here?"

The answer came from behind them as Martinez caught up with them along with Michelle. "No. I told him he could leave. Why?"

"We've got a safe." He saw as she pulled out her phone. "I can probably get into it if you want."

"How - never mind. I should know better than to ask by now. Do you need any tools?"

After a brief examination he shook his head. "No ma'am. We might be wise to let Michelle get this carpet out of here first, though."

"Ladies first, huh? Such a gentleman." The tech gave him a wink and with a little help from Chuck removed the stained section of carpet as well as part of the underlying pad and particle board.

"Okay, Mr. Copperfield. Have at it." Chuck moved the shoe rack out of the way and squatted down to watch. Martinez and Rodolfo were watching from behind them.

After a moment of using his phone to research the manufacturer Houston knelt down in front of the device, slowly and carefully moving the dial. He could tell from the amount of slop in it that it wasn't a top of the line safe. A few seconds in he could feel the first wheel as it reached its setting and made a mental note of the number that the dial was on: 25. _Good. _He nodded, knowing that a lot of manufacturers had a habit of using a list of standard combinations. His next move was to turn the knob to 75 and he felt the second wheel settle. Usually the next number was 50 and he spun the dial, landing on it and feeling the settling. Very carefully he turned the handle and the device popped. He eased the door on it open.

"How the actual hell…?" Chuck looked to the two women who stood slack jawed.

"Damn." Rodolfo couldn't believe her eyes. "How?"

"I could tell you…" Matt stood up and waved her toward the safe. "But then I would have to kill you and I really like you so I won't do that." The cheesy smile that accompanied the statement sent her into a fit of giggles and she knelt down to take a picture of the contents.

"Wow. There's a lot of money in here. Chuck, would you hand me a bag out of my case, please?" The requested item was handed over and she carefully removed banded stacks of bills. "If the tags are right there's $150,000 in here." Wylie let out a low whistle.

"Ya know…" Matt thoughtfully looked at the other three. "Old Natalie isn't as smart as she thinks. If she had let Lorinda open the safe before she whacked her over the head she would have been better off."

"True." Martinez just shook her head. "Is there anything else in there?"

"Yes ma'am. A pistol." Michelle stood and sealed the bag of currency then placed the 9mm Sig in a gun box.

Houston was looking closely at some of the clothing that was hanging in the closet nearby and pointed out what looked like blood on several of the items. "Looks like she didn't notice the cast off."

Chuck piped up. "Drugs will do that to ya I'm told." They helped the tech to bag and tag several of the items, some of which were men's clothing that had apparently belonged to Evan Strand.

After checking the rest of the bedroom, the group moved on through the house. Chuck went into Natalie's room and it didn't take long to find her stash. Meth, ecstasy, and some weed were all in the drawer of the bedside table and the ashtray on top was loaded with roaches.

Matt was stopped in front of the dresser looking at two bottles of acetone sitting among at least two dozen bottles of nail polish. He got a metal can from the tech and put the bottles of polish remover inside and labelled it. Next he began searching the drawers and stopped at the third one. "Think I may have found what she used to beat Lorinda with…" He snapped a couple of pictures before easing out a heavy glass bong that was about eighteen inches tall. "Michelle!"

The tech came hurriedly into the room as did Martinez. "Looks like blood to me. What do you think?"

Kneeling down beside him, she first photographed it and then used phenolphthalein and a swab. "Yup." Upon closer inspection she employed a pair of tweezers and removed two small strands of hair and held them up for the other three to see before popping them into an evidence bag.

"Ole Natalie ain't much for cleaning up I reckon." Chuck shook his head disgustedly.

The rest of the house was devoid of anything more incriminating and they left: Martinez and Michelle toward HCSO and Houston and Wylie to Lorinda Strand's local bank that was located south of the home just off of Lake Houston Parkway. They entered with the warrant in hand and after waiting a few minutes for the manager to dispense with some previous business, introduced themselves and served the warrant on a very surprised Dirk Rudiger.

"Gentlemen, I can't believe this is happening. Are you sure?"

"Sir, we really can't discuss details of an ongoing investigation." Chuck watched as the man began working the keyboard. "Mrs. Strand has two accounts and a safe deposit box with us." He jotted down the number of the box before calling for a locksmith. "Mr. Edgecomb will be here shortly." He copied the details of the accounts onto a flashdrive that Matt handed him and then lead the way to the area of the vault where the safe deposit box was located. Within a few minutes the locksmith arrived, drilled the lock on the box, and was on his way. The banker removed the box to a private room and the three men began looking through it. Matt first took pictures of the box before the contents were removed and then recorded as Chuck removed each item. There were original copies of both Lorinda and Evan's birth certificates, Evan's death certificate, and lastly a copy of Lorinda's will of which they took photos.

"That's it." Rudiger put the contents back inside. "Of course the bank will have to lock these away until such time as Mrs. Strand's will is executed."

Matt nodded. "Thanks for your help." He and Chuck went back to HCSO and popped the flash drive into Matt's computer to look at the records. The Strands had been doing business with the same bank for the majority of the time that they had been married. Evan had been a good provider and their wealth grew steadily up until the time of his death. Then there was a decrease, slowly at first, and then more frequently. They could see that a lot of the money was going to the Diamond Stakes Casino.

Chuck let out a low whistle. "She was getting herself into a situation there for sure. Burning right through the savings."

Houston went to more recent transactions and tapped the screen and spoke sarcastically. "Betcha Lorinda didn't use her debit card at Club Venice the night after she died." He and Chuck exchanged an angry look. "There are other charges on here, too: restaurants, online shopping, gas stations. In fact look here - this charge was made on the way back to Atoscocita." After a little research, he found the number for the gas station and called. The manager reviewed the stored security footage and sent him a video that looked tremendously like Natalie pumping gas just before 5:30AM on August twenty-third.

"You know, Ms. Kretchner may have been right." He checked his watch, switched off the monitor, and stood up stretching.

"About?" Chuck went to his own desk and turned off the light.

"Lorinda probably felt like Evan was with her at the casino. Only problem was that luck wasn't with her ."


	7. Chapter 7

**07**

Matt got out of the SUV behind the house and was immediately set on by Catey and the boys who demanded that he tell them all about his trip. "No, don't really think y'all need to hear about that. But Uncle Chuck and Miss Francine said to tell you howdy." He tossed his bag over his shoulder, picked up all three of them, and in a mass of giggling and wiggling carried them up the back steps. After depositing them on one of the swings, he dropped the bag and pulled CJ into a big hug, kissing her as their children protested.

"Good! You're home, _hijo._ Supper is ready." Madre Rosa was standing in the doorway of the kitchen as the kids ran in and were shepherded by Sheila into the restroom to wash up. The housekeeper watched as Matt took the opportunity to share another much more involved kiss with his wife, pulling her tight. Smiling, she went back into the kitchen.

CJ lowered her voice. "Are you okay?" She had been worried about him since he had called the day before and told her about seeing the death of Lorinda Strand.

"Yeah, fine."

"Are you sure?" She searched his eyes.

"I'm okay. It's…" Shrugging, he pulled her tighter and brushed his thumb along her cheek. "It's scary, Babe. When I see this stuff I can feel it all - the fear, their hearts pounding, the pain. And when they die…" He swallowed hard and shook his head. "It…" The words were failing him. "It's like I'm dying, too."

From the house they heard the laughter of the kids as they scrambled up to the table. "C'mon. Supper time. Gotta feed those babies." He smiled down at her as he patted on her belly.

Later on after bathtime and playing the guitar before the kids went to bed, the couple went out on the back porch and settled into one of the swings. Trying to keep his mind off of the Strand case, Houston squeezed her a little closer. "So how are things going at the Rockin' PH?"

"Really good. We have two new horses to train - a gelding and a mare. So Ben is going to be a lot busier. As a matter of fact we're looking for another hand. When I go mare shopping things are going to be even busier. I've set up a couple of appointments next week - that is if my favorite horseman can go with me." CJ kissed him on the cheek.

"I'd be happy to do it. Where will we be headed?"

"Aransas Pass and Bastrop."

"Both beautiful places. But not nearly as beautiful as you." He leaned closer and the pair shared a kiss.

Tuesday morning Houston and Chuck walked into the building on Baker Street together and after making a pit stop for coffee, went back to their cubicle to figure out their next move on the Strand case. They both found messages from Martinez asking them to come to her office ASAP.

Carrie Patterson waved them on inside and as always, they tapped on the door before entering. "Hey, what else have you gotten?" Francine seemed to be in better spirits than she had Saturday.

They informed her of the visit to the Strands' bank and the information that they had gleaned from the account records.

Matt stretched as he spoke. "I want to file for warrants on Natalie and Lorinda's cell phone records. Have you heard anything from Michelle about the laptop she found in Natalie's room?"

"Not as of yet. And I already took care of the cell phone records. Michelle is working on them now."

Chuck stood and yawned. "Guess we're going to have to roust that heifer."

"Let me know what you get. Thanks, guys."

"Yes ma'am." The answer came in stereo once again and she smiled as the pair left.

As the friends walked into the lab a few minutes later their favorite tech was in high spirits. "There you two are. Boy, did I find some stuff on Natalie. And we have a positive ID on the body thanks to fingerprints. The pistol that was in the safe belonged to Lorinda. She had a concealed carry permit. And Natalie's prints were all over the car: steering wheel, door, rearview mirror, and trunk, as well as on the safe. Plus I heard from Lake Charles PD. The tire impressions are a match, too. And Natalie's bloody fingerprints were on a part of the shower curtain that was wrapped up inside and protected from the fire. There's only one way they got there. And I found her internet history on the laptop - including where she mapped out the route to where you found Lorinda's body. Plus she sent it to the navigation app on her phone. Now take a look at this." She opened a laptop and accessed the information from their prime suspect's text messages.

"Have a read. Start here." She clicked on the first of several exchanges between Strand and a man named Reggie Muncie who apparently had been supplying her with drugs. She owed him over $3,000 and had been trying to scrape up the money. By her own admission she had pawned items from the home - electronics, silver, and jewelry. The last message to the dealer was dated August 23rd at 8:07AM. In it she was asking Muncie for help getting into something, stopping just shy of saying that it was the safe.

Matt grunted. "Looks like Muncie was a hell of a lot smarter than Natalie. He didn't reply to any more of her texts."

"Maybe not that smart. He was arrested by Narco that morning. He's still in lockup." Rodolpho looked victorious.

Houston shook his head. "Just wish we could find the gun that she used on Lorinda."

"Pard, I think we need to pay a visit to a couple of jailbirds." Chuck was grinning from ear to ear.

"Yup." Matt turned his attention back to the tech. "You're pretty handy to have around. Thank you, ma'am."

She was smiling. "So are you going to teach me how to get into safes?"

"Nope. Wouldn't want you to be tempted to change professions. We need you here."

The two friends went up to the jail after stashing their pistols in their desks and found Reggie Muncie waiting in one of the visitation rooms. A short man, Reggie stood maybe 5'6" and weighed probably a buck ten soaking wet. His teeth signified that he most likely used his own stock of meth. There were copious amounts of sores on his face, neck, and hands, and his dirty blond hair looked dry and unhealthy just like the rest of him. He looked warily at the two detectives. His beady brown eyes reminded Matt of a beetle. "My lawyer ain't here."

"Okay." Houston took a seat across from him as did Wylie. "We aren't here to ask anything about your case."

"Then what the hell do you want? A five star review on the food?" Muncie slouched back in the chair with a sneer on his face trying to look like a tough guy.

"Nope. I don't give a rat's ass about the food. I want you to tell me what you know about Natalie Strand."

"Don't know who you're talking about."

"Funny, you sure texted with her enough. I guess you don't care about the three grand that she owes you either. Want us to tell her the debt is forgiven?" It was all he could do not to laugh at the series of expressions that played out across the face in front of him.

"Still don't know what you're talkin' about."

"We were going to try to get the DA to work with you a little bit on the drug charges if you helped us."

Muncie stared first at Matt and then Chuck. "What the hell is this about?"

Matt's voice began the descent down an octave. "Murder."

Chuck had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as the prisoner's eyes bugged out and his lips moved without saying anything.

After several seconds the man found his voice. "I don't know about a murder."

"Sure about that?" Houston leaned forward and levelled an unblinking stare on the smaller man.

"Y-yes." He looked back at Chuck again for a little help. All Wylie did was shrug his shoulders and look non-committal. Silence permeated the room for over a minute as the cogs inside the druggie's head began to grind and he decided to take another tack. "So who got killed?"

"Do you remember the last text you got from Natalie?"

Matt had to give it to Muncie: he was starting to think. It took a minute for him to reply. "Maybe."

"Lemme refresh your memory." He pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture he had taken of the exchange between the two and turned it so that the prisoner could see.

"If you say so."

"She said she needed help getting into something and that if you helped her she would pay you double what she owed." Houston put the phone back in his pocket.

"I don't know what she was talking about."

"Sure about that?" Chuck now walked over behind the man and rested his right hand on the table, leaning close to where he was speaking very quietly next to Muncie's ear. "This may be the only way that you can get a deal with the DA. Your last hope. A guy like you doesn't fare too well in lockup. I'm sure you figured that out your first night in, didn't you?" The tone was quiet but menacing. From the other side of the table Houston's eyes resembled that of a snake - dark with a glint of danger.

Looking down at the cuffs on his hands the drug dealer looked scared. "She told me once before that she thought there was a safe in the house. Her dad had almost disowned her for stealing things and said something like, 'You won't be stealing any more money from us.' And there wasn't ever money laying around in there. She looked through drawers, closets, everything. I guess she finally figured out where the safe was." He shrugged. "That's all I know about it. I swear to God."

The two detectives entered the room where Natalie sat cuffed to a table with an irritated look on her face. "How you doin', Ms. Strand?" Chuck closed the door behind Matt and himself.

"I'm not saying a word to you. My lawyer isn't here."

"Alright. Just listen then." Chuck motioned for Matt to take the lead.

"We're here to inform you that we found your mother's body in Lake Charles where you shot her and then set her on fire."

"I…" She looked shocked. "I didn't do anything to her."

"Uh huh. Well, when your lawyer shows up to talk to you about the charges, be ready: you're looking at charges here in Harris County, then in Lake Charles, and also with the Feds."

"Feds?" She looked astounded.

"Kidnapping. You took your mother across state lines. That makes for a federal kidnapping charge." Houston stood. "Guess we may see a lot of each other in court." Just before he walked out of the door he turned back around. "It might interest you to know that she wrote you out of the will at the end of July. The estate is going to the Youth Baseball League. So you killed her for something that wasn't going to be yours anyway."

Wylie punched the button for the elevator as both men settled their pistols back into their holsters. The ride up to Martinez's office was quiet and Carrie Patterson once again waved them on in. Matt held the door for his buddy and they entered.

"So how did it go?"

"She was shocked - especially when we told her that she was facing charges in three jurisdictions." Matt sat down next to Chuck.

"I just got done talking to the DA in Lake Charles and the Federal Prosecutor. Needless to say they are tickled with the work that y'all did and wanted me to thank you."

Wylie spoke up. "It wasn't just us. You were right there with us. And Michelle worked her tail off on it, too."

"Anyway, you'll probably be spending some time in court testifying so make sure you shine up your boots." She laughed as the pair answered simultaneously again and stood to leave. "Houston, I need a word with you, please."

Matt sat back down on the couch as Chuck left the office. He gave her a questioning look.

"I want to thank you. Between that talk we had Sunday morning and the trip with you and Chuck I've decided that I love this job too much to give it up. Just yet, anyway."

"Good. Glad to hear it."

"And I'm going to put that offer out there again. We could sure use you full time here."

He stood and adjusted the gun belt, grinning as he shook his head. "Nice try. You know I can't do that."

"Maybe one day." She laughed as he walked out, but after the door closed she spoke aloud again. "And maybe one day this will be your chair."


End file.
